01-30-2010, 12:52 AM
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1019
thousand yays to Alex!
Strel did not consider the blond his best friend either. There were few here in Nova Scotia that he considered a very close friend of his. Someone he had just met that day could not possibly qualify for that position reserved for someone, or some people, who could understand the way he thought and where his mind went. That person would be someone who could comprehend what his trade meant to him and what it did to his emotions. There had never really been someone in that position before since all Strelein had once known was the rest of the von Rosnete brood, both litters of them. No one in his litter had been his best friend, and he would be damned if any child of a conservative nut job would warm up to the strange boy enough to keep his secrets of liberalism from their parents and leaders. There had been too much risk there and Strel refused to trust anyone outside of his own family there. Here the chevalier knew there would be men and women who could be the person for him, closest comrade kind of person. Lover was a whole other thing. Besides, the criteria for the one his heart would belong to already eliminated half the canine population. His mejor amigo would be male or female, as long as there was a connection to one another. A common bond, if you will.
There was only one person so far who had seemed to be present as a good possibility. That had been Mati Church. They had started out so rough, so harsh, with Strel almost worried for his pretty nape on his own pack's lands. She had come to search for her brother but had ended up facing the redhead in Cour des Miracles as a lost woman. While they met under rather bad terms, her getting angry and feeling he had insulted her and her brother, and him feeling threatened by a woman, they were closer by the end of Mati's jaunt into the territory. They were now preparing to go to Halifax to find some supplies for a mural that the woman would paint on his bare walls at the Hotel. It seemed they had found a common ground in art, with her painting with the remnants of the pastels and colors the humans left behind, and Strel with his love of sewing. Those had let them bond before the Church woman had to leave for her home in Crimson Dreams, while the prospect of a beautiful room kept the redhead from thinking negatively about their meeting. The girl was nice, too, which made him happy. Once she had understood what he had meant, their relationship turned somewhere much better. The chevalier was quite happy to know her. She would be a great friend. But Daisuke, now there were questions here, but the redhead did not want to think about them now, since the man was too confusing to really peg correctly. He supposed it would have to be go with the flow for him here.
Somehow the blond did not get the joke that had come from his own lips. Besides, there was no telling what kind of reaction the other would get. But it would still be a good laugh. Strel chose to give the other the reason for his fit of laughter, saying it as calmly as he could, "Well, you asked if there was anything I could 'use' you for -" The redhead widened one eye and peered at the blond, tilting his head to the other side to watch for the reaction. "- you know, use...you?" He struggled with not being too obvious, fumbling for more vague words with his hands expressing his mental searching as digits closed over empty air. Finally, he just waved his hand and sighed, smiling as though he were in on some brilliant joke. "Whatever, you probably just don't get it. It's cool."
Again, the redhead shook his head, both hands up as thought to stop the other in his tracks. "No, no! Please! Don't feel obligated to get me anything. This is what I do. It's my trade and I do it willingly for any new friends." Hands returning to his side, Strelein sat himself down beside the fire, a little be away from the blond but still close enough to be on the same 'side' of the fire. "I don't expect anything in return, Dai-Dai," he clarified, looking rather serious about it. There was no need for a gift in return. The clothier only expected a trade on the second object to be made, since he would need to start making some form of a profit soon. Lately, he made more friends that wanted his services. Oh, how he hoped that all his freebies would provide with some kind of good reputation that the others would happily spread among their friends and pack mates. 'Go to Strelein von Rosnete in Cour des Miracles if you want good clothes' was something he would have loved to hear going around. Imagine the roaring trade he could get from that. Well, maybe not as roaring as the drug dealers, but still good enough to satisfy the entrepreneur in him.
Giving Daisuke a sly look, the chevalier rose a knee up and rested an elbow on it. "You could always play a matchmaker and find a man for me. Or not, I'm cool with a man or no one at all." Strel shrugged, not knowing if the blond knew many people out in the unclaimed. The redhead himself knew a few, but most were taken or were people that he would not feel the attraction to. There had to be love, or what was the point? Leroy had already raped him, sort of, and it had no meaning in it all. Pleasure was pleasure but love was love. That was the way it was. Why was it so hard to find a man willing to just fucking commit?
It could not be a stigma among men. Strel was willing! Why were they not?
thousand yays to Alex!
Strel did not consider the blond his best friend either. There were few here in Nova Scotia that he considered a very close friend of his. Someone he had just met that day could not possibly qualify for that position reserved for someone, or some people, who could understand the way he thought and where his mind went. That person would be someone who could comprehend what his trade meant to him and what it did to his emotions. There had never really been someone in that position before since all Strelein had once known was the rest of the von Rosnete brood, both litters of them. No one in his litter had been his best friend, and he would be damned if any child of a conservative nut job would warm up to the strange boy enough to keep his secrets of liberalism from their parents and leaders. There had been too much risk there and Strel refused to trust anyone outside of his own family there. Here the chevalier knew there would be men and women who could be the person for him, closest comrade kind of person. Lover was a whole other thing. Besides, the criteria for the one his heart would belong to already eliminated half the canine population. His mejor amigo would be male or female, as long as there was a connection to one another. A common bond, if you will.
There was only one person so far who had seemed to be present as a good possibility. That had been Mati Church. They had started out so rough, so harsh, with Strel almost worried for his pretty nape on his own pack's lands. She had come to search for her brother but had ended up facing the redhead in Cour des Miracles as a lost woman. While they met under rather bad terms, her getting angry and feeling he had insulted her and her brother, and him feeling threatened by a woman, they were closer by the end of Mati's jaunt into the territory. They were now preparing to go to Halifax to find some supplies for a mural that the woman would paint on his bare walls at the Hotel. It seemed they had found a common ground in art, with her painting with the remnants of the pastels and colors the humans left behind, and Strel with his love of sewing. Those had let them bond before the Church woman had to leave for her home in Crimson Dreams, while the prospect of a beautiful room kept the redhead from thinking negatively about their meeting. The girl was nice, too, which made him happy. Once she had understood what he had meant, their relationship turned somewhere much better. The chevalier was quite happy to know her. She would be a great friend. But Daisuke, now there were questions here, but the redhead did not want to think about them now, since the man was too confusing to really peg correctly. He supposed it would have to be go with the flow for him here.
Somehow the blond did not get the joke that had come from his own lips. Besides, there was no telling what kind of reaction the other would get. But it would still be a good laugh. Strel chose to give the other the reason for his fit of laughter, saying it as calmly as he could, "Well, you asked if there was anything I could 'use' you for -" The redhead widened one eye and peered at the blond, tilting his head to the other side to watch for the reaction. "- you know, use...you?" He struggled with not being too obvious, fumbling for more vague words with his hands expressing his mental searching as digits closed over empty air. Finally, he just waved his hand and sighed, smiling as though he were in on some brilliant joke. "Whatever, you probably just don't get it. It's cool."
Again, the redhead shook his head, both hands up as thought to stop the other in his tracks. "No, no! Please! Don't feel obligated to get me anything. This is what I do. It's my trade and I do it willingly for any new friends." Hands returning to his side, Strelein sat himself down beside the fire, a little be away from the blond but still close enough to be on the same 'side' of the fire. "I don't expect anything in return, Dai-Dai," he clarified, looking rather serious about it. There was no need for a gift in return. The clothier only expected a trade on the second object to be made, since he would need to start making some form of a profit soon. Lately, he made more friends that wanted his services. Oh, how he hoped that all his freebies would provide with some kind of good reputation that the others would happily spread among their friends and pack mates. 'Go to Strelein von Rosnete in Cour des Miracles if you want good clothes' was something he would have loved to hear going around. Imagine the roaring trade he could get from that. Well, maybe not as roaring as the drug dealers, but still good enough to satisfy the entrepreneur in him.
Giving Daisuke a sly look, the chevalier rose a knee up and rested an elbow on it. "You could always play a matchmaker and find a man for me. Or not, I'm cool with a man or no one at all." Strel shrugged, not knowing if the blond knew many people out in the unclaimed. The redhead himself knew a few, but most were taken or were people that he would not feel the attraction to. There had to be love, or what was the point? Leroy had already raped him, sort of, and it had no meaning in it all. Pleasure was pleasure but love was love. That was the way it was. Why was it so hard to find a man willing to just fucking commit?
It could not be a stigma among men. Strel was willing! Why were they not?